You never know what you’re going to encounter in my neighborhood. Some days it is as tranquil as Vic Damone singing “On the Street Where You Live.’’ Other days, all I can think of is Green Day grinding through “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.’’
At the end of the cul de sac, the folks we dubbed “the hoarders’’ would go driveway to driveway on trash day and cart away things like our old French doors. They have crammed so much stuff into the house that no light emerges from the curtains. It has become a black hole. All matter goes in, nothing comes out.
The fellow two doors away from me got caught up in the Y2K hysteria and decided that computers would shut down everything from the financial markets to his gas and electric feed. So he installed a propane tank that rivaled a German submarine in his side yard. His fears weren’t realized, but the monstrous tank remains an eyesore. I dubbed it “Das Boot. It’s still anchored to the side of his house.
Fortunately, the retired police lieutenant has gone. He once told the neighbor girls, living on opposite sides of his home, not to walk across his lawn because he might mistake them for intruders. He kept a loaded gun under his pillow. After his wife died and dementia creeped in, he moved to an assisted living facility.
One elderly man keeps a candle lit in his window. To me, that is an old Irish tradition of lighting the way for travelers. He also lights a nativity display on his front lawn throughout the year. It’s intriguing, but I’ll never learn why. He didn’t respond to an interview request.
Thank goodness some cool people live in Penfield.
I chuckle everytime I drive past the Whalen Road home where a young couple decided to lampoon those vertical W-E-L-C-O-M-E signs that have become trendy front porch decor.
The homeowner, Wade, said his wife might have found it at Aldi’s. Their sign spells G-O A-W-A-Y.
“No neighbors or passersby have said anything to us about it,’’ Wade said. “They probably think we are grumpy, which is ironic because we are the complete opposite. We get along great with any of the neighbors we have met. We have it up because we think it’s hilarious. Friends and family have commented on it when they come over though. Always makes for a good laugh.’’
A couple of miles away, Aimee and Brad began decorating their front lawn with skeletons for Halloween about 3 years ago and have become a neighborhood sensation on Panorama Trail.
They found an abandoned wooden utility spool on the side of the road. And decided it would make a suitable coffee table.
“We started brainstorming how to decorate it,’’ Brad said. “Initially, we had skeletons playing poker with chips glued to the table and cards glued in their hands. After Halloween, we didn’t know where we would store the spool so we decided to keep it out in November put Pilgrim hats on the skeletons and a turkey on the table.’’
By Valentine’s Day, Aimee convinced him the display should stay. They have adapted for each holiday.
Valentine’s Day – Hearts and pink feather boas.
St. Patrick’s Day – Green mustaches and shamrocks.
Easter – The skeletons donned bunny ears.
Memorial Day and Fourth of July – Red, white and blue décor.
June – To honor their daughter’s graduation, caps and gowns were installed.
September – Brad loves movies, the NFL and the Minnesota Vikings. To honor his passions, he dressed the skeletons in football jerseys from popular films. His display includes Bobby Boucher from “The Waterboy,’’ Shane Falco from “The Replacements,’’ and Ray Finkle from “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.’’ Someone donated a dog skeleton.
“We are trying to do a little more every year,’’ Brad said. “Our neighbors seem to really enjoy our displays so we hope to keep doing it for many years to come.’’
The Taj Mahal of lawn displays in my neighborhood resides in the backyard of Kevin Masters, a die-hard Wiffle Ball player. Masters has built a backyard stadium along Whalen Road that would knock your socks and cleats off.
His field of dreams includes a raised mound and basepath cutouts. Bright yellow foul poles rise from the outfield fences. He tucked bullpens, centerfield bleachers and a monument park inside the walls. This summer he installed LED lights for night games. The outfield fences once replicated a Fine Schaefer Beer scoreboard for Ebbets Field, a Harvey Bar 5-cent sign from the movie “A League of Their Own,’’ and hand-painted signs in center for Coca-Cola, Gem Razor, Light up a Lucky, Wise Potato Chips, Wendy’s and the winged horse of Mobil gasoline. He took down his Green Monster in leftfield and replaced it with signs marking the MVPs of recent tournaments. Yes, tournaments.
On a Friday afternoon, his boyhood pals from Islip on Long Island descend for the weekend. They play a warm-up game before the Saturday lollapalooza – Rochester vs. Strong Island. Friendships are renewed and old stories retold. Taunting is rampant. Wisecracks one guy – “After that at-bat, I’m convinced this is a Make-A-Wish deal.’’
Masters, 53, credits his understanding wife, Mindy, an understanding neighbor, and his love of the New York Yankees for feeding the obsession he began in 2010.
“That is the benefit of Peter Pan Syndrome, which apparently I am afflicted with,’’ Masters said. “Each year, new people and kids see and experience the field for the first time. I draw off that excitement. It’s sort of like a phoenix rising from the ashes each year. The field changes every year so it never gets stale.’’
Masters isn’t the only obsessed property owner on his road. His immediate neighbor erected a lavish Halloween display by Sept. 1. There are ghouls, goblins, ghosts, crypts and grim reapers – all illuminated. Welcome to the neighborhood.
Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitw rite.com/blog/
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